


After the Funeral

by maddy_snape



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Character Death, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-16
Updated: 2011-12-16
Packaged: 2017-10-27 10:06:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/294560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maddy_snape/pseuds/maddy_snape
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Has Harry really lost everything as he mourns his wife's death? Or is a new beginning on the horizon?<br/>Character death (not Harry or Snape). Written many years ago so not at all canonical.</p>
            </blockquote>





	After the Funeral

Harry felt like a fraud as he accepted the condolences of those surrounding him. He was more than a little drunk – having been plied with whisky since the ordeal had began - and was terrified that at any moment he would blurt out the truth to one of these well-meaning people.

Harry was not surprised to see so many had turned up to his wife’s, Hermione Potter’s, funeral. She had been a leading light in her research and had managed to write several books in her short life. There were many colleagues from her university and even some of the faculty of Hogwarts, though the last person he had expected to see was Professor Severus Snape. For some reason, even after Hermione had graduated, Snape had still seemed to hold a grudge against her. This was particularly strange considering she had chosen to go into the field of Potions research. Harry thought he should have been proud that one of his students had decided to follow in his footsteps. He had asked Hermione many times what she thought of it and all he had ever gotten were a few strange looks and some muttering about her being a Gryffindor.

Harry glanced over to him and couldn’t help but think that life had been good to him in the past five years since Voldemort’s demise by Harry’s hand. Snape barely looked much older than he had when Harry had first started at Hogwarts and his face looked softer with no trace of the scowl Harry had grown up with.

Snape watched Harry over the top of his wineglass as he brought it to his lips. The boy, no, man, he corrected himself, looked on the verge of collapse. The loss of his wife had obviously taken a heavy toll on him. The thought brought an unexpected pain to his heart and he wondered if he would ever be free of this feeling that life had decided to curse him with. He should never have come here, it was a mistake, but he had just wanted to see him once more, because after this Harry would no longer have a wife that brought them into the same circles and he would probably never see him again. He decided to remedy this mistake immediately and resolutely put down his wineglass on a nearby table. Too late he realised the path to the door would take him straight past Harry and words could not be avoided.

As he went towards Harry, hoping that maybe he might be able to slip past unseen, green eyes met his. He nodded, ‘I am sorry for your loss,’ he said curtly, making to move past without stopping, but a hand on his arm stopped him abruptly. He tried to ignore the burning sensation this caused.

‘Are you leaving so soon?’ Harry said softly.

‘I have things to do,’ he replied, unable to think of a reason.

‘Oh, well…thank you for coming.’ Snape was about to move on, make good his escape, but something in Harry’s tone stopped him. He sounded so lost, so alone.

‘Hermione was a great asset to the Potions Master circle, she will be sadly missed.’ he offered, unable to think of anything else to say. It did not have the effect he desired.

‘Yes, I’m sure you’ll miss her, one less person for you to argue with,’ Harry said bitterly.

‘Hermione and I often argued, but I always respected her,’ said Snape, almost mildly. ‘I shall miss our lively debates.’

Harry looked surprised.

‘You know, sometimes I got the impression you hated her.’

A strange expression flitted across his face that Harry, in his less than sober state, could not interpret.

‘Perhaps I was a little envious of all she had,’ he muttered. Harry watched, as he seemed to mentally shake himself. ‘Anyway I am sure you will miss her enough for both of us,’ he said gravely. ‘I know how devoted to each other you were.’

Harry just prevented himself from laughing, but he could not prevent a small smile which Snape did not miss. He looked at him enquiringly. Not seeing how his statement could evoke any mirth. Harry looked at him and thought what the hell, if he was going to unburden himself to anyone it might as well be Snape.

‘Hermione was my best friend after Ron died, and I loved her, but I was never in love with her. No more than she was with me. She married me because Ron died and I married her because the person I was in love with was…unobtainable.’ Harry flushed. Snape assumed he was talking about Cho Chang who, despite Harry’s best efforts in the fifth year, had never forgiven him for not saving Cedric Diggory’s life. He had never understood what Harry saw in the vaguely pretty, but distinctly average, Ravenclaw, but then he had been biased. Even so, this revelation was totally unexpected.

‘Not the best motive for marriage,’ he said dryly.

Harry smiled at him sadly.

‘Neither of us realised at first what we had done and by then it was too late, we were married and neither of us believed in divorce.’

For the hundredth time Harry had a flashback to that fateful day that had freed him…

They had been shopping in Diagon Alley, Hermione had been talking about her idea for her next book and they had been walking along oblivious to those around. Then at the last second, Hermione had seen the assassin aiming his wand at Harry and thrown herself in front of him. The spell had not been the killing curse, but had the same conclusion. Harry had watched helplessly as his best friend lay dying in his arms.

With almost her last breath, she had rallied all her strength and opened her eyes.

‘I’ll be with Ron now,’ she had whispered. ‘You’re free now, Harry, this is my gift to you. Don’t waste it, just…take a chance.’ And with that she had closed her eyes and faded away.

Harry had tried to tell himself that he didn’t know what Hermione had meant, but he had confessed all to her a long time ago. The problem was he would never take that chance, he was too afraid of rejection. Rejection would be final, he wouldn’t even have his dreams to fall back on.

Harry suddenly came back to the present and opened the eyes he had not even realised he had shut. The room whirled around him and he would have fallen if a strong arm had not reached out to steady him.

‘Thank you,’ he whispered, as the room finally stopped spinning, but Snape continued the grip on his arm.

‘I think you’ve had enough today.’

Enough of what? Harry wanted to ask. Enough drinking? Enough confessing? Enough accepting condolences from those who didn’t have a clue? There was one thing he hadn’t had enough of, but he wasn’t drunk enough to confess that.

‘Wait here,’ he was ordered. The steadying hand disappeared, much to Harry’s regret, but came back almost instantly.

‘It’s all organised,’ Snape said. ‘Minerva has agreed to get rid of everyone. Come with me.’

‘Where are we going?’

‘I’ll help you to your room, I’m not sure you could make it on your own.’

Harry gladly let the arm guide him out of the room, vaguely aware of people staring at him pityingly, but at this point he no longer cared. Confessing to Snape had been quite cathartic. At least one person knew the truth.

‘Which is your room?’ Snape asked impatiently.

Harry gestured to the room at the end of the corridor and allowed himself to be led to it. After what he had heard, Snape was not surprised to see it had a distinctly masculine feel to the room. This was not a room that he had shared with his wife.

‘Well, I’m sure you’re capable of putting yourself to bed,’ he said stiffly. ‘So I’ll bid you goodnight.’

He was totally not expecting the vicelike grip that Harry put on his arm.

‘Don’t go yet,’ he pleaded.

Harry didn’t know where he got the courage from, but he couldn’t let him just walk out. Snape looked at him confused as Harry moved closer.

Soft, full lips met hard thin ones and somehow fitted together perfectly. As Snape gasped in surprise, Harry took the opportunity to thrust his tongue into his partner’s mouth, revelling in the feeling of all that warmth and softness and – after some hesitation - that wonderful tongue that stroked his back. He could barely suppress a moan as a hand came up to the back of his head and pulled their mouths impossibly closer. Harry insinuated a hand between them, wanting to feel if Snape was as hard as he was. He wasn’t disappointed. At the touch of his hand though, Snape came back to his senses and pushed him away, panting.

‘No, Harry. You’re drunk and emotional, you don’t really want this,’ he said wildly. Hurt green eyes looked back at him.

‘I don’t want to be alone tonight,’ he said pitifully. ‘Please don’t leave me.’

Snape looked back at him, unsure, many emotions battling for supremacy. That he had longed for this since Harry had turned seventeen was undeniable, but how could he live with himself for taking advantage of the one good thing he had ever known?

The decision was made for him when Harry determinedly took the short step that brought him back fully against his ex-Professor.

‘You want this as much as I do,’ he whispered huskily as he pressed their erections together to prove his point. Both moaned at the fire the contact invoked. Once again Harry brought his lips to Snape’s.

So wrong, thought Snape incoherently as the fever gripped him. Of their own volition, his hands reached behind Harry, running up and down his back and finally cupping the firm arse, pressing Harry tight against him.

All restraint left Snape as he lost himself in that warm mouth as the kiss became more intense by the moment.

Harry felt Snape’s surrender and his hands went to his robes and started feverishly unbuttoning them. Eventually Snape mimicked his actions and unbuttoned Harry’s black, mourning robes. Even if this struck him as wrong, he was no longer in a position to care. After robes came shirts and after shirts came trousers, until all that stood between them and naked flesh was their underwear.

Harry urgently pulled him towards the bed until they fell on it in a tangle of limbs. Snape rolled until he had Harry firmly beneath him, his pulse racing at the feel of Harry’s lithe body beneath his, feeling better than he had even dreamt, better than any of his fantasies.

However, there was one thing he needed to know before he could carry on. Reluctantly he pulled himself away from those sweet lips.

‘Have you ever done this with a man before?’ he asked softly. Harry flushed and shook his head slightly. Snape tried to pull away, but Harry gripped onto him tightly.

‘Don’t you dare leave now,’ Harry said fiercely. ‘Just because I haven’t before, doesn’t mean I don’t want to, because I do.’ He then proceeded to show him with his lips just how much he wanted this.

Finally, ignoring his conscience, Snape once again relaxed and let his body take over. He kissed a trail downwards. A nip here, a lick there and Harry was soon writhing uncontrollably beneath him. Eventually Snape came to his groin, quickly disposing of his underwear, he moved to the soft white flesh of his inner thighs, licking and nibbling until Harry was begging and pleading for him to please touch him, now; his erection hard and throbbing painfully.

Snape finally took pity on him and in one swift movement swallowed him down. Harry moaned loudly and arched off the bed, desperate to feel all of himself enveloped in that hot wetness. Another moan as that talented mouth started to flick its tongue over the head of his erection and a hand came up and started playing with his balls. Slowly Snape moved up and down the shaft, loving the feeling of Harry writhing beneath him, totally at his mercy.

All too soon Snape felt the prick throb in his mouth and the bitter fluid spurt into his mouth. He swallowed and then gently removed the now flaccid length from his mouth. He looked up and met sated green eyes.

‘That was amazing,’ Harry croaked. Then, grabbing hold of Snape’s hand, he pulled him back up the bed so that Snape was lying on his side next to him. Snape, almost chastely, pressed his lips against Harry’s. Harry opened his mouth and sucked in his tongue, tasting himself in Snape’s mouth. As the kiss once again grew more passionate, Harry felt himself getting hard once again as Snape’s hands wandered across his body. He sighed as the fingers found his semi-hard erection, but after the briefest of touches, the hands moved lower, past his balls, past the soft skin behind until he trailed a questioning finger over Harry’s puckered opening.

For a brief second Harry tensed, but as the finger made as if to retire, he forced himself to relax, opening his thighs wider to allow better access. The finger returned and pressed gently into his opening and Harry could not suppress a sigh of pleasure. Then, all too soon the pressure disappeared and Harry opened his eyes in protest. He watched, puzzled, as Snape retrieved his wand from the nightstand and pointed it at his hand. ‘Lubricatum’ he whispered and it filled with a viscous substance. Harry’s whole body throbbed as he understood what was about to happen.

Snape positioned himself between Harry’s spread thighs and rubbed a slippery finger across his opening, pushing it smoothly all the way inside. Harry gasped and Snape leaned forward to press another kiss to his hungry lips, distracting him from the pain, all the time moving his finger inside him. As they continued to explore each other’s bodies, Snape worked another finger inside and then another, stretching and caressing Harry until he was moaning steadily.

Harry brought a hand down to Snape’s own thick erection and stroked it demandingly.

‘I want you…now,’ Harry urged.

Snape slowly removed his fingers, leaving an aching void in their wake. Harry moved his hips restlessly as Snape rubbed his slick hand over his aching erection and positioned himself over Harry’s waiting body. He met Harry’s eyes with a questioning look.

‘Are you sure?’ he asked in a low voice, even now hardly believing that Harry actually wanted this from him.

‘Yes,’ Harry answered in a firm tone.

Without hesitation, Snape entered the tight channel in one smooth movement, only stopping when he was fully embedded. He stayed still a moment to give them both time to adjust. Then he made the mistake of looking at Harry’s face which was nearly his undoing; a mixture of pleasure, wonder and undeniable need. Totally beautiful to Snape’s once jaded eyes. He had to use every ounce of his iron control not to come then and there. Harry looked at him pleadingly.

‘Please,’ he begged, breathlessly. ‘Move!’

Fingers gripping Harry’s hips almost fiercely, he slowly withdrew and then pushed back in, making sure to hit his prostate. Harry moaned loudly, eyes rolling back in his head. ‘Oh god, yes.’

At that point Snape finally lost control. Letting go of Harry’s hips, he once again brought his lips to Harry’s which were half open, making it all the easier to slip his tongue into that welcoming mouth. Automatically Harry wrapped his legs around his lover’s waist, impaling himself even further.

‘Feels so good,’ he panted against his lips.

Snape responded by quickening his movements, revelling in the feeling of being inside the other wizard’s body, the feeling of total union.

They moved together with sighs and moans, each striving towards their own climax. Far too soon, Snape started to feel the familiar tightness building up in his own groin. Quickly he snaked a hand between their bodies and took hold of Harry’s impossibly hard erection, stroking it in time with his thrusts.

‘God, I…I can’t…’ Harry gasped incoherently.

‘Come for me, Harry.’ Snape whispered in that deep velvet tone. And that was all it took as Harry cried out and came in several long spurts. Snape held still for a long moment as the channel clenched and spasmed around him, nearly taking him over the edge. Once the tremors died down, he continued fucking Harry, pushing into him in long, hard strokes. Harry wrapped his arms around his lover possessively, letting him use his body for his own completion, whispering encouragement all the way.

Finally it was all too much and crying out Harry’s name, he emptied himself deep inside that tight hot channel.

For a moment they just lay their, Snape still inside Harry, until his softening cock slipped out. Sighing, Snape slithered off Harry’s body and lay next to him, realising by the steady breathing that he was already asleep. Summoning the last of his strength, he grabbed his wand and cast a cleaning spell over them both.

He lay back down, trying to summon up some regret about what had just happened, but found it sadly lacking. Unable to stop himself he put a possessive arm around Harry’s waist and letting his eyes shut, he succumbed to oblivion.

*****

When he woke up it was light and he got the prickling sensation he was being watched. He cracked open an eyelid and saw Harry propped up on one elbow, emerald eyes gazing at him, an inscrutable expression on his face.

All the regret he had been unable to summon the previous night came down like a ton of bricks. He had taken advantage of him. He had been drunk and lonely and couldn’t possibly have realised what he was doing. It had been his wife’s funeral for gods’ sake!

‘I thought I must have dreamt it,’ Harry said, finally breaking the silence.

Snape sat up feeling horribly vulnerable. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, looking anywhere but at Harry. ‘I took advantage of you…of your grief.’ He started to push back the covers, intending to get dressed and get the hell out of there, not wanting to see the loathing in those beautiful green eyes or even worse…pity.

Before his feet touched the floor, he found himself pulled back onto the bed and then pushed back, his head once again resting on the pillow, but this time with a warm weight on top of him. He looked up, baffled.

Harry looked down at him, his gaze intense.

‘You’re not getting away that easily, Professor. You’re going to listen to what I have to say.’

Snape lay there, waiting for the inevitable recriminations.

‘I thought I must have dreamt it,’ he said again, voice steady. ‘Because it’s all I have dreamt of for more years than I care to remember, of you, incredible sex and me.

Snape looked back at him, confusion clearly written on his face.

‘I thought…Cho…?’ he trailed off uncertainly.

Harry laughed. ‘I had a feeling you thought I was talking about Cho last night. Yes, I admit I did have a bit of a crush on her in the fourth year, and yes she did reject me quite cruelly in the fifth year, but I honestly never had more than a crush on her. She was never what I truly wanted.’

‘So who…?’ his heart beat fast, surely he couldn’t mean…

Harry laughed again.

‘Isn’t it obvious? I wanted you! You were always unobtainable to me because you hated me so much.’

‘I never hated you, Harry.’ Snape said softly, hardly believing all he had ever hoped for has been realised. ‘I only ever tried to keep you grounded, make you realise that you’re not immortal.’

‘So what did you think of me?’ Harry pressed, his face was so close and Snape could feel the warm breath on his face making it difficult to think and impossible to lie.

‘At first I thought you were stupidly impetuous, brave, too emotional and intensely loyal; then as I got to know you I came to realise that you also had a passionate nature and a kind heart.’

Harry’s eyes grew hot. ‘And what do you think now?’

In answer, Snape pulled Harry’s head down and kissed him soundly, and then, catching Harry off-balance, rolled so Harry was now trapped beneath him. Neither could be unaware of how aroused they both were.

Snape put his lips against Harry’s ear and whispered,

‘I think I want to make love to you again,’

Harry’s eyes widened and he pushed Snape away a little so he could see his face.

‘Is that what we did last night? Make love? It wasn’t just sex?’

Snape traced a tender path down Harry’s cheek and looked into those anxious eyes, understanding what he was asking.

‘When you were seventeen, I looked up one day and it was like seeing you for the first time. In place of a skinny, irritating boy I found a grown man and that’s when I fell in love with you.’

‘You loved me even back then?’ Harry asked in a choked voice, hardly believing what he was hearing. Snape nodded and couldn’t help smiling wryly as he remembered the horror he felt at the sudden surge of emotion for the student he had always loathed in public and guided in private.

‘I wish you’d told me,’ Harry said in an almost pained voice. ‘We’ve wasted so much time.’

‘It wouldn’t have been right, you were my student and we had enough to worry about with Voldemort. Besides I assumed you hated me.’ He finished, with a flash of amusement sliding across his face.

‘Not by the seventh year. I stopped hating you after the Tri-Wizard Tournament when I found out you were spying for Dumbledore and understood how much you were risking. Then I kind of had to rethink everything I knew about you and realised I actually admired you. After that it was only a short step for my feelings to deepen until I realised I cared about you…that I loved you.’ Harry couldn’t help the blush as he reached the end of his speech. It wasn’t every day he confessed all to the object of his affection.

The look he was getting from his lover however, more than made up for any discomfiture.

‘Now I know I’m going to make love to you.’ Snape growled, grinding his body hard against Harry’s.

Harry didn’t bother replying. There were plenty of better things he could be doing with his mouth right now. Later they would have to work out where they were going, but he was fairly sure that whatever happened, they would be going together…

THE END.


End file.
